Sake?
by CelticWarriorMoon
Summary: McHanzo fic. In which McCree thinks he did the right thing by buying his lover a bottle of his favourite alcoholic beverage, only to find out that Hanzo has other plans in mind for their "romantic" Valentine's evening. Summary sucks as always, so do go ahead and read. Rated T for some sexual implications towards the end. Nothing too mature though, not like lemons or anything.


"Well, darlin', whaddya think of it?"

McCree's hopeful inquiry was almost enough to make Hanzo Shimada reconsider telling his lover the plain truth.

Trying to disguise his struggle to do so, he hastily swallowed the mouthful of sake and, throwing a small, somewhat forced smile in the American's direction, replied, "It... tastes good, Jesse. Honestly."

He didn't believe that himself.

He hoped that it would not be another one of those instances where, annoyingly, McCree saw right through his careful lies. The last thing the archer wanted was to hurt McCree's feelings, to make him feel as if he had done the wrong thing simply by treating his lover to a bottle of his favourite beverage, but...

Hanzo's heart sank just a little when he saw the cowboy's expression turn from cheerful to slightly disappointed. His cautious evasion of truth had evidently been in vain.

"It doesn' really taste nice at all now, does it?" he asked, his tone subdued.

"No, no, it's not that. It's just..."

Hanzo let out a sigh. Why was he finding it so difficult to just do the simple thing, and let his partner know what he really thought?

Pulling out the chair to the archer's left, the cowboy sat down at the table and made himself comfortable beside his lover. He didn't hesitate to delicately take hold of Hanzo's left hand in his - just one of those sweet little gestures through which the extent of his affection clearly shone. His skin felt rough and well-weathered against Hanzo's own, a feeling to which the refined Japanese archer had become well-accustomed, a feeling he loved.

"It... doesn' taste of anythin' at all?"

"...No."

With that said, Hanzo cast a glance at his crestfallen companion. McCree only looked downwards, seemingly concentrating very hard on keeping his hand locked in the firm yet gentle hold of his lover. The archer knew it was but a mere distraction from his disappointment.

It was a few silent moments before Hanzo heard him say, quietly, "Never had ya down as the fussy type, Han."

 _And why is that?_

Despite himself, Hanzo gave a small chuckle in response. What on earth had made him think _that_ way? It should have always been obvious, even as far back as the first time they had met. Even in his younger years, years he remembered with both fondness and regret, Hanzo had quite a strong tendency to disregard anything that fell below his high standards.

"I can be very set in my ways, Jesse," was all he could say in reply. "And yes, sometimes that even includes my taste in beverages."

The archer became silent once more, and stared into his drink. Idly, he moved the glass in his hand in a small circular motion, causing the liquid within to swirl around gently.

"That said, for a man with little to no experience of Japanese culture... you honestly did not do _too_ badly," he affirmed, eventually.

Well, it wasn't _that_ bad, was it?

As if to prove his point, he lifted his alcoholic gift to his lips and took another cautious sip - only to involuntarily grimace at the bland, watery taste in his mouth.

 _Damn it._

Now it was McCree's turn to good-naturedly laugh at his companion. Disgusted, Hanzo set down the insipid liquid and glared at his lover.

"What?!" he asked, annoyed.

It took a while for the amused American to respond. Honestly, Hanzo could not for the life of him understand what he found to be so funny, but through his hearty laughter, McCree somehow managed to reply, "You're... you're _such_ a bad liar, darlin'. Real, _real_ bad."

Well, maybe that part _was_ true. He had proven it several times already.

Hanzo gave an exasperated sigh.

"You may very well be correct, Jesse. Unfortunately."

He looked down, at the tender sight of his own hand locked lovingly in the snug hold of his lover's. Without thinking, he lightly stroked his thumb across the coarse, uneven surface that was the cowboy's skin, taking in the calming, pleasant warmth radiating from the blood beneath.

Jesse McCree had got him all figured out, it seemed. At this stage of their relationship, Hanzo found himself pondering, it would be a miracle if there was anything the good-natured cowboy did _not_ know about him. Every relatively insignificant thing, every small nuance to his personality... Jesse McCree had it recorded. A fact Hanzo simultaneously loved and hated.

"Han, I wasn' tryin' to make ya feel bad -"

"No, no. Do not worry about that," Hanzo responded, not waiting for his lover to finish. "I do not mind staying here with you, even if it means I have to make do with drinking cheap sake that tastes akin to dishwater. But... maybe we could..."

The Japanese archer racked his brains for a suitable alternative to their sorry situation. Except that, in that moment, there did not seem to be any. Nothing that instantly sprang to mind.

Although, that said, a decent, reliable meal of traditional Japanese cuisine _did_ sound quite tempting...

"Maybe we could... I dunno, go some place nice, an' instead have a good ol' slap-up Japanese feast. Whaddya say to that, Han?"

Hanzo did not expect his lover to think up such a suggestion, to effectively read his mind, but the idea of that sounded very appealing to him indeed.

He redirected his gaze from the table before them to McCree's invitingly dark brown eyes. A soft smile presented itself on the cowboy's face, and his eyes sparkled with a mischievous look that could only say, _Come on, you know you want to.  
_

Hanzo sighed. He did fancy that, actually. Any excuse to get away from his lover's obvious disappointment. Rather than waste time here, celebrating with a drink he didn't even like…

He took a quick glance at the clock hanging high on the far wall. 9 o'clock. They still had plenty of time to celebrate what was intended to be a romantic evening together.

"O- of course, Jesse. That sounds fine by me," the archer replied, glad of his American lover's unexpected input.

At least he had got out of _that_ hole relatively easily.

Calmly, though somewhat reluctantly, Hanzo disentangled his hand from the clasp of his lover's. Wasting no more time, he slowly pushed his chair back from the table, rose to his feet, and headed for the door.

"I understand that your experience of Japanese cuisine may be a bit... lacking. Would I be right in assuming such a thing?" he asked in a quiet voice, turning to address his beloved.

The cowboy only shrugged, a casual gesture.

"Ya may well be right there, darlin'," McCree casually answered, a smirk on his face. In his typical unhurried fashion, he too rose from his seat and walked over to join Hanzo. "Maybe ya could educate me on that one."

Hanzo couldn't resist smiling to himself. It had the tendency to monumentally annoy him at the best of times, but there were also those rare occasions - like now - where he found McCree's inadequate knowledge of his home country quite amusing.

At least he had a good teacher.

"Gladly," was all he could say in reply, as he stepped out, his cowboy lover close behind, into the chilly February air. The crisp coldness of the night - coupled with purely an excuse to display his mutual affection, Hanzo presumed - prompted McCree to quickly reach for his hand. It felt pleasingly warm against his own, better than any glove. If it were not for the company he shared at that moment, the inky darkness of the night might have felt infinitely colder. Hesitating no further, he started walking, briskly, in the direction that he knew would take them both to the finest Japanese restaurant they had at their disposal. All McCree could do was let his Japanese partner take the lead.

As they walked in companionable silence, Hanzo allowed himself a small, secret smile. Now their night could be spent in the way they had both envisioned - spent perfectly.

"I don't think you will be disappointed, Jesse. Not tonight," he assured.

...

"Well, Han, that was _*hic*_ some realllll good stuff back there... weren' it?"

In his intoxicated mind, Hanzo's lover's state was quite amusing indeed. He couldn't help but grin a little, foolishly, despite himself, as McCree barely made it up to their shared bedroom in one piece. That was even despite his own careful arm around his shoulder, in an unsuccessful attempt to guide them both, easily, back to their room.

"I - _*hic*_ \- s'pose you're right, Jesse..."

Suddenly exhausted, yet strangely energised and emboldened by their alcohol-soaked night out, Hanzo flopped down on the plush double bed, too tired to even bother undressing.

Neither of them had really intended to go out and drink themselves into inebriation that night. But he should have known, what with the reasonably low priced sake their chosen restaurant had offered, that both he and his American lover would find themselves getting in far too deep sooner rather than later.

They had stayed out until four in the morning, nearly until sunrise, when all the other diners had well left, and they had thought it better at that point to leave. Hanzo was, quite frankly, surprised that such a place would even stay open for so long. The drunken cowboy had then far too loudly voiced his fears about Hanzo being too liquored up to find their way home, but miraculously, the Japanese archer managed to lead them once again back to safety.

Not that he wasn't feeling the consequences of the occasion himself.

The Japanese native allowed himself a quiet chuckle as McCree haphazardly staggered over to their bed. Evidently as tired out as he himself was, he collapsed onto the mattress beside him.

Hanzo didn't even have to bother undressing, it seemed.

The archer hadn't even time to register the American's presence beside him before he felt McCree's hands at his back, tugging at the fabric of his shirt.

"Welll, y'know... th' good stuff doesn' have to end _there_..." the cowboy slurred.

 _Jesse... why?_

Vaguely alarmed, struggling a little against the after effects of too much sake, Hanzo slowly sat up. He tried in vain to ignore how his surroundings swam and rippled around him. The cowboy's hands only remained at his waist, and slid underneath the fabric of his upper garment so that they now rested against his warm skin.

The steady movement did not cease. Promptly, before he could tell the amorous American not to, he felt the fabric being lifted away from his abdomen, and pulled over his shoulders.

"Jesse, why-"

He stopped himself with a loud _hic._

His inhibitions were fading, it seemed, and fast.

How could he try to stop McCree's debauched advances when he himself was so excessively drunk?

He could no longer care what he was doing. He wasn't in a fit state to stop his lover from doing anything untoward, after all.

No. In his current frame of mind, his lover's actions, and intentions, actually gave him a satisfying, tingling feeling. Coupled with the warmth and loss of control brought on by the hard liquor they had consumed, it fired his senses into overdrive.

McCree laughed at the obvious drunkenness that his Japanese beau displayed in that moment. In a carefree gesture, he tossed Hanzo's unneeded upper garment to the floor. A tiny _hic_ too escaped from his mouth before he said, in a voice as soft and smooth as honey, "'Cos ya really are somethin' else, darlin'... ya really are somethin' good..."

McCree subsequently wasted no time in reaching for the strip of golden cloth securing the archer's shiny, dark hair in place. With a practised hand, he delicately unfolded it and pulled it away, causing the luxuriant mahogany tresses to fall in waves across the archer's shoulders. He buried his hand, somewhat carelessly Hanzo felt, deep into the thick, silky strands, clearly revelling in the feeling. There was never a time when he didn't enjoy that, it seemed.

The archer only smirked. He couldn't help himself. The pleasing motion of the cowboy's hand delicately toying with his hair only sparked something deep within him.

He knew then what he had to do.

No longer even trying to hold back, he reached for his lover's shirt and reciprocated the gesture, slipping his own careful hands underneath the material. He halted for a moment, to simply take in the feeling of the cowboy's well-weathered, toned skin against his fingers. A pulse raced through McCree's veins, quite obvious to the touch.

 _There... is no reason to stop now, Hanzo..._

"I could say th' same 'bout you too, Jesse," Hanzo responded. His voice was not his own, instead replaced with the slurred tones of a drunkard. "Quite eas'ly..."

Without hesitation, he yanked the shirt off of McCree's back, leaving his upper body exposed. Exposed to the fleeting caress of the archer's hands, as he carefully ran them downwards over the well-muscled, hardened surface of his lover's lower abdomen. The warm skin quivered beneath his gentle touch, expectantly.

The cowboy didn't even act surprised. Instead, he only continued to passionately fondle his partner's silken hair, his hand eventually coming to rest on the back of Hanzo's neck beneath.

"I can prove it if ya want, an' I can do it riiiight here..." he purred, as he stroked his fingers against the delicate skin - a seemingly minor action which only excited the infatuated Hanzo all the more.

 _I wouldn't mind, Jesse... Not at all..._

The enlivened archer, who had carefully started removing McCree's leather trousers, momentarily paused to reply, "I see no reason why you shouldn't..."

With that said, he hastily peeled the rest of the heavy fabric away from his lover's body. Promptly, his American lover started reciprocating the gesture. A shiver involuntarily made its way down the archer's back as he did so. Soon, they found themselves only wearing the bare minimum required for modesty.

Not that they had much to be modest about, admittedly.

Not in this moment.

Definitely not. It didn't take long before Hanzo felt his passionate American lover brush a tender hand down his similarly well-muscled midriff, overloading his awakened senses even more. If his heart wasn't pumping hard enough before, by now it was definitely racing. Surprisingly, that in itself was a welcome feeling.

Looking his Japanese lover in the eyes, McCree responded, a playful smirk on his face, "Oh, then you bett'r buckle up, darlin'... you may be in f'r a rough ride..."

There was no time for Hanzo to respond to the cowboy's amorous innuendo. Before he could make any sound, he was promptly shut up by the feeling of McCree's lips roughly, rather clumsily he thought, meeting his own. All Hanzo could do, as his lover quickly, fiercely deepened the kiss, was sink completely and utterly into the display of passion.

 _Jesse..._

He closed his eyes, allowing himself to melt into the sensation.

It appeared that that was not all that his lover had in mind, though. Hungrily, McCree forced the kiss open, their tongues now touching. His right hand once again placed itself deep in Hanzo's mane of lustrous, mahogany hair, where it tenderly ran the silken strands through its fingers. The archer swiftly felt the cool, metallic sensation of the American's prosthetic hand come to rest upon his lower back, where it stroked the skin in a manner that felt rather pleasing indeed. Surprisingly, the movement felt so natural, so... right.

He didn't hesitate to resume running both hands over the cowboy's exposed abdomen. The hardened, muscle-defined skin felt pleasantly warm and inviting beneath his touch.

The passionate behaviour of the two lovers continued like this for several endless moments, a hazy blur of wandering hands and deep-rooted instincts finally being let loose, but it very quickly became evident that there was no end in sight.

McCree, having had his fill of overly-general lustfulness, obviously had no intention of keeping such activity to a minimum.

Not judging by his following actions, anyway.

He wasted no time in gently pushing himself onto his Japanese beloved, forcing them both downwards onto the plush sheets of their bed.

It was here that Hanzo felt him slow somewhat, releasing his lips from where they had been sealed with utmost passion against his own.

Gradually, the Japanese archer opened his eyes, to find himself locked in the admiring gaze of his lover's deep walnut-brown eyes. Despite his drunken state, and everything around him appearing to be little more than a hazy blur, he still found himself hypnotised by the alluring look of affection to be found within them. That, and the intoxicating warmth of the cowboy's body against his own, cuddled up close over his, made him feel more than just a little impassioned.

They said nothing. In the silence, Hanzo's own heartbeat drumming in his ears felt almost deafeningly loud. No words were exchanged for a few moments, as the two lovers simply savoured the cosy intimacy they shared.

After what seemed an eternity of losing himself in McCree's loving gaze, Hanzo calmly moved his hand to his partner's cheek, where he softly traced a finger along the edge of his face. He remained that way for a few idle moments, taking in every little detail of his lover's age-toughened complexion against his fingertips. By now, it was not hard for him to know every blemish, every fine crease, that occupied the cowboy's tanned skin.

"You're... not so rough now, Jesse," he affirmed, in a hushed tone, addressing his lover. As the words left his mouth, he couldn't resist moving his careful hand down to his lover's lips, where he delicately traced their outline with his fingers. A pleasing contrast of soft warmth and the surrounding bristly, untamed coarseness greeted him.

McCree only gave a playful smirk in response, as he brushed his own hand tenderly down his lover's neck. Hanzo felt his body shiver, involuntarily, beneath his touch.

"Oh, but I can be, if you'd like, baby..." he slurred, his flirtatious words only barely recognisable to the archer as human speech.

 _Oh, Jesse... why not?_

Just what had they got to lose, exactly, when all was said and done?

Hanzo couldn't resist smiling too. Even to his normally stone-cold being, his American lover's romantic teasing was a tad infectious.

Boldly, he looked McCree in the eye, and gave him a similar suggestive smirk.

"Do your worst, cowboy."


End file.
